Chapter 7

　　At the old man’s words, I snorted. Of course.

　　"Sir, where did you go to school?"

　　"Why are you asking that all of a sudden?"

　　"Hankuk University, right?"

　　"No—but how did you know?! Are you one of those face-readers?"

　　Face-reader, my ass. If he hadn’t gone to Hankuk University, there was no way he’d be spouting bullshit like that.

　　Anyway, there isn’t a single normal person who came out of Hankuk University.

　　"I’ll be going now. I listened, so let go of me like you said you would."

　　Only then did he finally release my arm. He’d been gripping so hard it actually ached.

　　"Accept your fate."

　　He was ridiculously persistent. I couldn’t even be bothered to respond, so I turned and ran. From far behind me, I heard his booming shout.

　　"Don’t forget! Just because everything’s the same doesn’t mean it can all be laid in the same place!"

　　What the hell is he even saying? Every time I meet people like that, it hits me all over again.

　　This really must be a dream.

　　If it weren’t for Seongjae, I would’ve woken up from this crazy nightmare ages ago.

　　Grumbling, I headed for the restaurant.

　　When I reached the massive, imposing building, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and went inside. I was sweating like crazy, and the leather pants stuck uncomfortably to my legs. It was stifling, but I endured it and looked around. That was when someone who looked like an employee blocked my path.

　　"Do you have a reservation?"

　　"Ah, yes. I think my party is already here. Under Lee Junghyun."

　　The employee—whose mouth was smiling but whose eyes had been sharply scanning me—changed his expression instantly. Like an actor in a luxury commercial, he bowed deeply.

　　"My apologies for not recognizing an esteemed guest. This way, please."

　　An esteemed guest? Was Lee Junghyun some kind of VIP here? While I stood there thoroughly confused, the employee kindly led me toward the private rooms. I’d never been treated like that before, so it didn’t feel real.

　　The best service I’ve ever gotten was at Out the Back Steakhouse.

　　I’d gone there after splurging for Seongjae’s twentieth birthday. Back then, the server took our order while kneeling, and it gave me serious culture shock. Even then I hadn’t known what to do with myself, and being treated even better now made me feel like I was tying myself in knots.

　　Guess a small fish belongs in a stream. Step into deep waters, and my stomach starts churning.

　　I followed the employee down a long corridor. Through a pristine glass wall, I saw a huge tree planted right in the center of the building. I’d only ever seen stuff like that in movies.

　　The place was so fancy I found myself shrinking in on instinct. The employee walking ahead stopped in front of a sliding door covered with traditional paper.

　　"Mr. Lee Junghyun, your guest has arrived. Shall I show him in?"

　　Communicating through a door like that made it feel like I’d traveled back to the Joseon era. Like I was a court official coming to visit the king. No wait, this is a Japanese restaurant, isn’t it? Then I should think of myself as an independence fighter infiltrating to assassinate an imperial Japanese general.

　　I was pointlessly trying to act all solemn in the middle of that stupid fantasy when the door suddenly flew open with a bang. Lee Junghyun stepped out, his clothes disheveled.

　　Huh? Wait. What was that just now?

　　The employee shut the door immediately the moment Junghyun stepped out, so I didn’t get a good look, but I swear it looked like a table had been knocked over in there.

　　"Inside just n—"

　　I pointed at the door, but Junghyun stepped right in front of me, blocking my view entirely. With a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he greeted me.

　　"You said you couldn’t come, but here you are."

　　"Ah, yeah. Um… where’s your girlfriend?"

　　"Something came up, so she left first. This is perfect, actually. I was just about to head out, too. You hungry? Let’s go eat.

　　"I’ll treat you to something good."

　　"Huh? We’re not eating here?"

　　We’d come all this way to eat, and now we were going to another place? What was that supposed to mean? Conscious of the employee standing nearby, I whispered to Junghyun.

　　"Still… we came all the way here. Shouldn’t we eat before we go?"

　　I’d deliberately spoken quietly, but the employee—apparently possessing incredibly sharp hearing—smiled politely and said,

　　"It is quite all right, sir. Please visit us again next time."

　　With the employee saying that, it felt awkward to insist we eat here. When I nodded, Junghyun grabbed my arm and tugged me along. Even as I followed, I glanced back.

　　That room had definitely been a mess.

　　"Come on. I’m starving."

　　Junghyun pulled on my arm, dragging me toward the exit. I mean, if you’re that hungry, shouldn’t we just eat here? I couldn’t understand it, but I kept quiet and followed the guy who was buying my meal.

　　A valet brought Junghyun’s car up to the front entrance. Last time it was some black luxury car with a star emblem, but today it was a bright red Ferrari. I gaped at the sports car while Junghyun headed for the driver’s seat.

　　"Let’s go. Get in."

　　"Huh?"

　　"It’s a coupe, so there’s no back seat."

　　Now that he mentioned it, it only had two doors. If it wasn’t a truck, why the hell did it only have two doors? The trunk looked roomy enough—couldn’t I just curl up back there? I hesitated, still lacking the courage to get into the passenger seat. Even in a dream, trauma doesn’t just magically heal overnight.

　　When I glanced at Junghyun, his eyes looked innocent and guileless—like he had zero doubt I’d ride shotgun. If I told him I wanted to fold myself into the trunk, he’d probably think I was nuts.

　　"Uh, I actually got a bit carsick on the way here! If I get in a car right now, I think I might throw up. What if we go somewhere we can walk to instead?"

　　I spat out the excuse after thinking fast. Junghyun strode right up to me. His eyes, which had drooped sadly a moment ago, filled with genuine concern as he examined my face from every angle.

　　"What hurts? What’s wrong?"

　　"Huh? No, it’s not that bad or anything."

　　"Yeah?"

　　He thought for a moment, then nodded.

　　"Okay. Let’s walk."

　　He handed the keys back to the valet and whispered something to him, then came back to my side. Mindful of the employee, I whispered to Junghyun again.

　　"But… is this really okay? Leaving the car here when we’re not even eating?"

　　"It’s fine. My cousin runs this place. We’re close."

　　"Your cousin?"

　　"Yeah. He kept pestering me to stop by, so I came. Honestly, even I felt uncomfortable in a stiff place like that, so I used you as an excuse to get out."

　　Junghyun smiled, his eyes curving softly. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No—why does this guy keep smiling?

　　What if Y University isn’t the Y University I know? Like, what if there are actually letters in front of it that got left out—like G and A?

　　Yeah. I should run.

　　As we walked toward the main road, I gripped my phone tightly, planning to call an Uber and bail. I’d watch for my chance and request a ride. Timing it perfectly, I delivered my prepared line like I was reading straight from a textbook.

　　"Oh? I got a text from Seongjae, so I’m just going to contact him for a second."

　　"Seongjae?"

　　Junghyun’s brows drew together slightly, but he quickly returned to the same gentle expression as before.

　　"Sure. Take your time. Mind if I make a quick call, too? I want to tell my girlfriend I ran into you."

　　"Y-yeah. Go ahead. Hurry—your girlfriend might get worried."

　　Junghyun stepped about three paces away and called his girlfriend. Watching him, I couldn’t quite decide what to think. Was it real? Did he actually have a girlfriend? But I’d read countless BL novels, and after witnessing gay displays of affection nonstop at Hankuk University, I couldn’t relax so easily.

　　He could show his true colors at any moment. Guys who act sweet and kind like that later turn into obsessive tops who lock the bottom up in their house.

　　Pretending to type a message, I opened the rideshare app. Just as I was about to request a car, Seongjae really did contact me. When his name popped up, I answered right away.

　　"Hey, Seongjae. What’s up?"

　　—"Did you meet up with Junghyun?"

　　I glanced at Junghyun. Junghyun—who must’ve already finished his call with his girlfriend—smiled brightly at me.

　　"Yeah. I met him."

　　—"Let’s drink, the three of us, at Junghyun’s place. It’s been a while. I’m heading over now."

　　"What? No, showing up like that all of a sudden is rude."

　　"What’s going on?" Junghyun stepped closer, blinking curiously.

　　"Oh, Seongjae suddenly says he wants to drink at your place—the three of us."

　　"Yeah? I don’t mind."

　　Junghyun agreed easily. Maybe Seongjae could hear our conversation through the speaker, because he chimed in immediately.

　　—"Then I’m heading to Junghyun’s place?"

　　"What about your group project?"

　　—"Two people didn’t show up, so we’re meeting again next time. I’m pissed, so I need a drink."

　　There was genuine anger in Seongjae’s voice. Even in real life, Seongjae would sometimes get heated when a group member ditched and went radio silent. This seemed like one of those times.

　　"Okay. Got it."

　　Even as I hung up, the uneasy feeling wouldn’t go away. Didn’t Seongjae say Junghyun made him uncomfortable? He’d said he didn’t really like him, so why was he acting so friendly?

　　I had a million questions, but since Seongjae said he was coming, I decided to go to Junghyun’s place for now.

　　"I got a present recently—a really good whiskey. Let’s open it tonight."

　　Junghyun had a bright smile on his face the whole time, like he was in an amazing mood.

　　"Then should we go out to the main road and catch a cab?"

　　A car would have trouble coming into the alley, so I started to head for the main road, but Junghyun suddenly stopped in his tracks. What is he doing now? When I glanced at his face, the kind look in his eyes had noticeably sharpened.

　　A cab…?

　　"Huh? Yeah. Oh, because of the motion sickness? I’m fine right now."

　　"So, you’re saying we should take a cab?"

　　Why was he asking twice? Did he just not want to leave his car behind?

　　It didn’t make much sense to leave his car at the shop just to catch a cab. But if we didn’t, I’d be hard-pressed to come up with a good excuse to sit alone in the back seat. While I hesitated, Junghyun smiled gently.

　　"My place is far from here. Isn’t a cab a bit of a waste?"

　　I’d pegged him as some spoiled rich kid, but he was surprisingly grounded when it came to money. An admirable mindset, sure, but entirely inconvenient right now. Still, he had a point. Should I just suck it up and ride shotgun?

　　But even in the real world, I could barely bring myself to go anywhere near a passenger seat. And this place was a dream. There was no guarantee I wouldn’t climb into that seat only to end up in the exact same accident all over again. If we crashed, I’d wake up. I’d open my eyes, stare at the ceiling of an empty room, and the crushing reality would hit me all over again.

　　Right. Seongjae is dead.

　　And now, I didn’t even have Seongjae’s dying wish left to keep me going.

　　A bitter taste flooded my mouth, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I clapped Junghyun on the back with a loud, hearty laugh.

　　"I’ll cover the cab! I just really don’t feel like going all the way back to the shop."

　　"You’re paying? It’s far. It’s going to cost a lot."

　　Just how far are we talking? Gangbuk? No—he might not even live in Seoul. For all I knew, he commuted from the outskirts.

　　"Come on, it’s fine. You think I can’t handle a twenty- or thirty-dollar fare?"

　　There’s no way it’ll be more than fifty dollars, right? I was sweating bullets on the inside, but I played it cool. What did it matter if I loosened the purse strings a little? My financial anxiety had carried over perfectly from the real world. A broke bastard in reality was still a broke bastard in a dream.

　　But the air around Junghyun suddenly plummeted below freezing. The gaze that had been so warm just moments ago iced over, stabbing into me like shards of frost.

　　"My place is a five-minute walk from here," he spat, glaring at me. "You’ve been to my apartment more than once. Are you seriously telling me you didn’t know that?"

　　The moment the words left his mouth, only one thought crossed my mind.

　　Not, I’m fucked. I didn’t even scramble for an excuse. Before any of that, my very first, terrified thought was—

　　If I wake up from this dream, will I never get to see Seongjae again?

　　It was a lonely, devastating worry.